


All Reason Flown

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [133]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), F/M, Injury, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25740919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: Loki takes a bullet for you, andthenthings get weird.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [133]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 14
Kudos: 244





	All Reason Flown

It all happened so fast. One minute you were on a mission with Loki. It wasn’t great. Things were kind of rough, but you hadn’t been spotted so it seemed like you were going to be able to at least get out of there without a fight. The next minute you heard a voice behind you—and not Loki’s voice. Your heart sank as you turned to face whoever had caught you, and you found yourself staring straight down the barrel of her gun. You’d been in this situation plenty of times before. You should have been able to talk your way out of it. But you froze. Even when she barked an order at you to tell her who you worked for, you couldn’t. She shifted, clearly uneasy, and you watched as her finger tightened around the trigger. 

And then Loki grabbed your wrist to pull you behind him almost in the blink of an eye. 

And then she pulled the trigger. 

Loki did manage to send a blade flying towards her just before she did, so she went down fast, but not fast enough to keep a bullet from slamming into Loki’s shoulder. He stumbled backwards into you, and you were quick to catch him. You didn’t think; you just held him tight and ran. He didn’t put up much of a protest, which might have been alarming if you’d had any mental space to devote to anything except “get the fuck out of there”. As soon as you made it back to the jet, Loki pulled away from you so he could drop into one of the seats. You didn’t think, just immediately went to grab one of the first-aid kits onboard. When you got back, he tried to wave you off.

“I don’t need that,” he said in a low voice. You told yourself he _didn’t_ sound weaker than he should have. He was clearly wounded, and you could see bright red blood pouring out of his shoulder, but you couldn’t quite figure out how much he’d lost since his suit was so dark. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” you insisted, and reached to tug at his suit. Thankfully—and surprisingly—he let you. It took some effort, but you managed to cut away enough of the material around his wound so you could get a better look at it. You reached behind him to feel for an exit wound, but your fingers only grazed his suit, perfect and unmarred. “The bullet’s still in there.” Did you have the materials to get it out? You rummaged through the kit for a moment, hoping against hope. 

Loki reached past you for a roll of gauze and wadded up a handful of it to press against the hole in his shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said again. “I can get it out when we land.”

Without really thinking about it, you picked up a roll of medical tape and unwound several lengths of it to hold the gauze in place. “What the hell were you thinking, anyway?” You couldn’t find it in you to be particularly harsh with him: you were careful not to press the tape too hard against his skin or wrench his shoulder too badly.

“I was _thinking_ that you are mortal and I am not.” He was still speaking quietly, but you couldn’t ignore the amusement that had crept into his voice, the mischief. “I heal so much faster than you. This injury would have taken you out of the field for weeks.”

You hated how rational he sounded, and you hated that he was probably right. Still, you couldn’t keep yourself from rubbing at some of the blood that was drying against his skin. He was still bleeding pretty badly, and it was already starting to soak through the gauze. Your stomach churned. He was hurt because of you. You pressed your hand a little more firmly against the gauze, hoping that pressure would help stem the flow, and he grunted a little, possibly in surprise. “You’re bleeding a _lot_ ,” you murmured, kind of as a way to apologize. “If you were going to take the bullet for me, couldn’t you at least have thrown your blade a little faster so she couldn’t shoot you in the first place.” But there was no conviction behind your words. You didn’t really mean them. Maybe you were still just freaking out a little, replaying the situation in your head and hating how little you’d done to help him.

“I could have.” He still sounded amused. Maybe that irked you a little bit, given the fact that he was the one with the gaping wound. “But _first_ I wanted to make sure that you were behind me. If I missed, I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

This seemed like...a lot. You couldn’t raise your gaze to his face, and instead kept your eyes fixed on your hand on his shoulder. “You don’t miss.” It was something he pointed out often. Sometimes he’d help you practice throwing knives, and he was rather fond of crowing about his own abilities with the blade, especially when you started to get frustrated and whiny.

“As you say, there’s a first time for everything.” He was right: you did tend to say that to him, especially when he was getting a little too overconfident. “And if this was going to be the first time that I missed a target, I didn’t want you to get hurt because of it.”

Lord. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you had to consciously fight against the nervous giggle that threatened to come out of your mouth. Instead, you swallowed and let out a long breath. “So _you_ got hurt instead.” Maybe it was dumb to be this shaken up about that. You were on the Avengers team. People got hurt in the field all the time. Just...maybe this was the first time that you’d been there to witness someone getting hurt as a direct result of _you_.

He must have heard something in your voice, because he reached up to close his fingers around your wrist. At first, you flinched, certain that he was going to pull your hand away, but he didn’t. He was just...holding it. “Perhaps, but let’s get one thing straight: I did not get hurt because I missed.” You could hear the way he was smiling, and you wanted to groan. Even wounded, he was still able to be cocky about his abilities. 

You rolled your eyes and pressed a little harder against the gauze. He grunted again, and tightened his fingers around your wrist for just a moment, but then you heard him laugh. You didn’t much feel like joining him. “Then you only got hurt because of me.” It was hard to see how that was much better than getting hurt because he’d missed, but maybe that was just how Loki was.

“Is that guilt I see in those lovely eyes?” With some effort, he sat forward a little, and ducked down to try to meet your gaze, but you weren’t really feeling strong enough for that. “If you’d like, I can find a way for you to make it up to me. Dinner, perhaps? A bit of dancing?”

“Are you asking me on a date?!” Maybe your incredulity made it difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself. If you were feeling more normal, there was no way you’d ever presume something like that about Loki. 

He brushed his thumb along the tender underside of your wrist. “Well, it’d only be fair, you know. I _did_ take a bullet for you.” A sharp, breathless laugh erupted out of you at that, and the surprise of it all was enough to prompt you to look up into his face. His eyes were sparkling, and only further brightened when you finally made eye contact. “And I’d happily take a hundred more if you joined me for a dance each time.”

This felt so unreal. Could it possibly be happening? You shook your head, partly to clear it, and partly to make sure he knew how much you disapproved of his words. “Then maybe I should say no. This isn’t something I want to encourage, you know.”

He laughed and let his fingers drift upwards so that his palm was pressed against the back of your hand. “Say yes. Don’t make me beg.”

“Oh, now Loki of Asgard begs?”

“Darling, for you? There is very little I would not do.”


End file.
